Heroism
by Lov3good
Summary: "We can't all be heroes, because somebody has to sit on the curb and applaud when they go by." Saving Peter Pevensie never seemed like such an unlikely task... Until now  Peter/OFC
1. Dust Bunnies

**Disclaimer:**_ I don't own anything but the plot and the characters you don't know. Everything else is the work of the brilliant C.S Lewis. Quote in the summary is by Will Rogers._

**A/N:**_ So I've finally taken another try at a Peter/OFC story. This idea has been swimming around for quite a long time but then my laptop crashed and voilà gone was everything. So I re-wrote everything and here it is. I hope you guys like it, it is something else and somewhat out of my comfort zone but worth a try. And hopefully you people will like it._

**-**_Half our life is spent trying to find something to do with the time we have rushed through life trying to save.  
__**- Will Rogers**_

**Dust Bunnies **

A wisp of dust bunnies ran amuck in every exposed corner of the attic. There were drapes covering every piece of furniture and boxes littering every inch of space, occupying the "what used to be massive" attic. I could see it in William's eyes that he did not want to do this. But nor did anyone else and since he was the eldest of the family, there was a certain responsibility that demanded him to man up and wear his big boy's trousers. At least I'd be there to hold his hand.

It had been a week since his grandmother's funeral and now it was time for us to sort out her attic. Will's blue eyes were moving swiftly through the attic and his blond hair could only cover up his frown by an inch. I let out a sigh and gave his hand one last gentle squeeze before moving past him towards the drapes, that was hiding the sun from our view. As I pushed away the curtains, dust rained down upon me and I could not help but notice that there was a certain chill in the air. One that wasn't supposed to be here.

"It's been years since I last been here." Will suddenly said. I turned around and was surprised to see how dirty the attic actually was. I knew that Susan Broderick, also known as William's grandmother, didn't have the time to actually go clean her attic, especially at the age of eighty-three but never in my life had I thought it would be such a mess. It completely contradicted Susan's lifestyle.

I put my hands on my hips and tilted my head to the side. Will was taking her death rather hard. Worse than I had expected. I knew they were close. He was even named after Susan's older brother Peter who had died in 1949 in a train crash with his two younger siblings Edmund and Lucy. Apparently Will was an exact copy of Peter Pevensie. Though I had never seen it myself. Susan refused to show any pictures of her siblings. Their death far too tragic and too painful to be constantly reminded of.

"Will." I began and I quickly closed the distant between us and wrapped his arms around him. "You don't have to do this." I murmured against his clean crisp shirt. There was a lingering of cinnamon in the air as I breathed in scent, a certain musk mixed with spice. "I can do this alone if you want to." He shook his head and grabbed my arms, pushing me away from him.

"Dad asked me to. Besides, I want to." He moved past me and grabbed one of the boxes that were on a desk and started to empty its contents. I let out a sigh.

In all the years I've been friends with William Peter Broderick there had never been a time in which he was able to lie to me. His face was like an open book that you couldn't just pass by and not notice. And there were times in which I knew more than he gave me credit for.

Twelve years of friendship and no exclamation of love in sight.

The two of us worked through the masses of boxes and portraits. Once I came across a photo album but Will had snatched that out of my hands and had told me that he wanted to look at it later on. I merely shrugged and continued investigating his grandmother's stuff. She had many things that I admired. Beauty, (I had seen an old photo of her with her late husband Anthony) strength and a mind, one that would be expressed with her sharp tongue. I suppose she finally found her Anthony again, along with her siblings.

"Say Will." I began. The sun was making the attic bright and colourful, not to mention incredibly dirty as the dust was far too obvious now. I leant against one of the boxes and turned around to see that Will had discarded his warm jumper, leaving him in a black shirt. I blinked.

The fact I had fancied Will for a long time was no secret. Just for him, for some reason men could be incredible blind not to mention ignorant when it came to games involving someone's heart. We were both twenty-one, far past the age of being little kids on the playground. But every single time I got close on confessing on what he means to me I close up and find myself crawling back into the hole I had hidden those feelings in the first place. And Will never suspected anything.

"Yeah." His voice was gruff. His back was still turned to me and I slightly shook my head. Fazed by my silence Will turned around and frowned. "What is it, Chloe?" I shrugged.

"Nothing, I j-just..." I stammered dryly before trailing off. Already used to my short attention span Will shook his head as a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

It was one of my favourite smiles of him. Though if I was honest, I loved all his smiles. There was not one that wouldn't cease to make my heart flutter as if it was being chased. That was how it felt, like I was being chased by something that would eventually grab a hold of me. I was only prolonging the inevitable.

Will looked at his watch and cursed. "What?"

"I was supposed to call Allison." My insides froze and I scoffed internally. Allison _fucking_ Monro. Will's study partner. Although I knew that Allison was dying to be more than just s_tudy partners_. And I knew she knew how I felt about him. Which didn't help at all because she would do anything to keep me away from Will's radar.

"I'm sure she'll understand." I muttered loud enough for him to hear. I caught a glance of his surprised expression as I turned my back on him again.

"Y-yeah, suppose so." Will replied and I heard him stand up, his feet moving towards the attic door. "But I'm going to call her to be sure."

"Yeah, sure." I whispered as the door closed behind him. I stood up and felt the pulling of my muscles in my lower back. I guess sitting in one attitude wouldn't do my body any good. I let out a small sigh and tried to ignore the stammering in my stomach, the knots that seemed to be tightening every single second. I could hear Will's voice in the hall, the house was so quiet that there was no certain way of getting any privacy.

As I dropped another empty box in the corner I caught sight of the photo album lying on the desk. I could see from all the way here that the pages were old and withered, yellow to behold. And there was a layer of dust covering the cover of the album. I strained my ears and heard Will's soft hum moving up the stairs, he was far too preoccupied to be noticing my antics.

I grabbed the album and blew to get rid of the dust. I sneezed almost immediately afterwards as the dust lingered in the air and attacked my nostrils. I moved to the other side of the attic and sat down on the lone chair that occupied the space. It screeched beneath my weight and I prayed it would not give away and make such a ruckus in the mean time.

I opened the album and was first confronted with a picture of a woman and a man. You could see that it was an old picture, and not just because it was in black and white. But also because of the way they dressed. Though I had to admit that the woman was absolutely beautiful. Her dark hair and eyes were penetrating and I read the small imprint beneath the photograph.

_Peter Pevensie Senior and Helen Pevensie_

So this were Susan's parents and William's Great-grandparents. There was also a date engraved at the top of the page.

_1921_

That was ninety years ago. I let out a small sigh and ran my fingers over the picture. It was odd to think that there were people who had lived their lives before ours had even started. Or maybe I was just self-centred, only obsessed with what happened in my life. But honestly, it was easier to care for something so near than to think of the things that happened so many years ago to someone who wasn't here anymore.

Pushing away the lump of nostalgia I moved to the next page. The photographs there were all filled with an old London house and pictures of little children. I assumed it were the Pevensie children. Susan's childhood. The next few pages were all filled with pictures of them being small children. Names were scribbled beneath the photographs.

_Peter, Susan, Edmund, Lucy. _

They all seemed so real now. I bit my lip when suddenly the door opened and Will got back. He halted in his steps as he saw me with the album and for some odd reason I felt horribly guilty for going behind his back.

"I w-was just looking at some of the pictures." I explained lamely and I could see that Will was surprised but angry at the same time.

"You mind if I looked at them with you?" His request caught me off guard but at least I wasn't struck dumb. I nodded and he made his way to me. "Move over a bit." He ordered me and I made some space for him. I held onto the album as he wrapped his arm around my shoulder, keeping me steady. My shoulder burned as our proximity made me go dizzy.

"That's my grandmother on her wedding day." I smiled at the picture. There was happiness in this picture. Susan's husband smiling brilliantly as she kept her smile more coy. Though if you looked closely, there was something else there too. A certain kind of sadness that could stretch for miles and miles. I'm sure that Will saw that too.

"She looks so pretty." I murmured and I felt rather than heard Will agree. "Are there more pictures of her?" Peter shrugged.

"Let's see." Was all he said as the two of us went through the album together. The pictures were scattered all through the album, there was no time line or anything of the sorts. They were all placed randomly, hence the picture we had now was of William's father when he was a child.

_Rupert Broderick 1959_

"Look at your dad." I exclaimed. "He was so cute." Will laughed at that and I couldn't help myself but join him.

"Don't let him hear you say that." I held up my hand.

"Cross my heart." Our eyes met and our smiles evaporated slowly. There was a sudden shift in the air, one that thickened our oxygen.

Will was the one to interrupt our moment by going to the next page. I tried to fight the disappointment and tears.

"And this was Peter Pevensie." I blinked as I watched the photograph.

"You look exactly like him." I breathed out. I ran my finger over the texture and felt the smooth paper beneath my skin. There was no way denying that Will was the exact copy of Peter Pevensie.

The picture was taken in 1949. The year in which he died. It was a spontaneous picture. He was talking to a woman whose face was all blurred but you could see the love in his eyes. Though that was not all. There was more to it and I would be lying if I didn't confess I was eager to know. I also wanted to know why the woman was so blurry in the picture. It seemed odd for such a clear picture to have a blind spot like that.

"Who was that woman?" I asked out loud. Will shrugged.

"I don't have a clue." I turned to him. Surprised that Will had averted his looks.

"Surely your grandmother must've mentioned something, right?" I persisted and Will shrugged again. His blasé manner was really getting beneath my skin. The fact he was so oblique about everything made me angry. When he shook his head I dropped against his arm and let out a sigh. "Honestly, Will."

"Look, I don't know, alright?" Will burst out. "My grandmother wasn't fond of talking of the past. Especially with one who looked so much like her dead brother. And I never questioned her about her because I felt sorry for her."

I frowned. "Why?" I questioned him. "It's not your fault you look so much like Peter, or is it now?"

Will snatched the album out of my hands and got up. I could feel his anger from all the way here. His mannerism betrayed his feelings. But not just that. It was everything nowadays that could tick Will off. And it seemed I was the catalyst today.

"So you're just going to walk away?" I asked. "Is that it?"

"Chloe!" Will turned around and he raised his hands. "Just shut up. You have no idea what you're talking about so just don't, okay?" I blinked taken back.

"Then enlighten me." I retorted. "Because I can't read minds."

"Well that's not the only thing you can't read." Will shot back and I held in my breath. I got off the chair and crossed my arms, trying to keep the burning in my eyes from showing.

"Pardon?"

"You heard me." Will continued. "Stop trying to make me talk. You're constantly hovering and frankly I'm sick of it."

"Well excuse me for caring? You're my best friend Will. You used to tell me everything. So when you shut me out like that I'm bound to get curious." I fought back weakly. "If you had been upfront with me from the start then perhaps I wouldn't be such a nag." Will rolled his eyes and ran his hand over his face, covering his eyes momentarily.

"You don't get it." He finally said and I scoffed.

"Of course I don't get it." I hissed. "Because I'm not Allison."

"Allison?" Will repeated stunned. "What does that have to do with her?" I shrugged casually and averted my eyes.

Will's ignorance was like a stab to the heart. How could he have not known this?

"Never mind, alright? Just forget I said something." I tried to move past him but Will grabbed hold of my arm and pulled me back to him.

"No, let's not." He retorted. "Just what exactly is your problem?" I bit my tongue to keep it all inside. I wouldn't snap at Will, not today, not here. He shook me again and I realised his grip was far too tight.

"Will, stop it." I tried to pull away my hand. "You're hurting me." He let go of me in a split second and I stumbled backwards. "And my problem is you not seeing what's in front of you for all these years."

Those words came out before I even realised I had said them. Even Will was surprised because I could feel his eyes burn a hole in my body. So I had finally said it. Which now meant I had to elaborate and I was a terrible person when it came to elaborating. Oh, why couldn't I just keep my mouth shut?

"What?" Will's voice sounded shaky, but that could've been me.

Downstairs the front door slammed shut and I jumped startled.

"Will? Chloe?" Rupert's voice carried all the way to the attic and I let out a sigh. Will's dad. Now we certainly wouldn't have the time to discuss my blurting out irrelevant things. "Where are you two?"

"I'll be back." Will said and he quickly left the attic, descending the stairs as if a truck was behind him. "Dad?" his voice lost the volume of before and I let out a relieved sigh, closing the attic door behind him.

"Just great." I muttered beneath my breath and I turned around. My back against the door. I could hit myself for being so careless. I should stop wearing my heart on my sleeve like that. It only lead to unnecessary conflicts that could be avoided if I wanted. _Fuck_.

I crossed my arms, my cold hands making me feel even worse. I bit my lip and tried to stop the flow of tears brimming over. Distract yourself. That's what I should do and I noticed another box on top of a massive closet. I frowned, I hadn't seen that before. Will and I had cleared most of them, the empty boxes in the corner. I grabbed the chair and hauled myself on it.

I pushed myself onto my toes and reached for the box, the chair already screeching beneath my weight. _Oh please_. If he was able to hold me and Will sitting on it, then I was sure it could hold me standing on it. I felt the tips of my fingers brush against the cardboard when the door opened again and Will stumbled inside.

"Dad's here to- CHLOE?" Will's presence had caught me off guard and I found myself toppling sideways, losing balance quicker than thought. I put my hands in front of me to soften the blow but my head slammed against the attic floor anyways and a sharp pain filled my head, spreading down my body like poison.

There were lots of words being said, sounds that only hurt me more and I found myself on my back as Will's blue eyes peered down at me. The alarm not going past me.

So he does care.

I could feel the edges of my vision blacken as Will's words barely registered in my mind.

"_Fuck_, Chloe, hold on!" He ordered me. "Hold on."His hand was on my cheek and inch by inch the blackness took hold of everything surrounding me. His eyes the only vivid blue I could distinguish before I slowly closed my eyes.

_**XXXXXXXXXX**_

I could feel drops of rain on my cheek and I flinched, trying to raise my hand to my face. It was as if a radio was being tuned up because one second I couldn't hear anything when the next everything around me was filled with noises. Cars, people talking, just common noises found outside. I frowned, I couldn't be outside, I was with Will. I fluttered my eyes, trying to open my eyes.

"_-Look, she's coming to!"_

My eyes snapped open and I gasped as the bright grey sky came in view.

"Ma'am? Are you alright?" I let out a breath when I was confronted with Will's blue eyes and I nodded slowly.

"Yeah, I'm alright, Will." I murmured and I tried to get up. Will put his hands around my waist and kept me seated. They were warm and comforting.

"Careful ma'am." He murmured and I frowned again. Ma'am?"

"Will, my name is Chloe. You need to stop this rubbish." I complained as I then noticed the crowd around me. I turned back to Will again, feeling more alarmed. His eyes were observing me quietly, though there was a look in his eyes I did not know. "Will, what's going on? And what are you wearing?" I eyed the grey suit. Not that it didn't look nice, but it was so...old fashioned. Something you saw in those old classical movies. I looked around and noticed that almost everyone was dressed that way.

"You fainted." Will clarified. "And my name is not Will." He continued and I found my jaw go numb. "My name is Peter, Peter Pevensie."

I guess it wasn't such a surprise when my eyes rolled back and I found myself embracing the state of unconsciousness with much more vigour than usual.

**A/N:**_ How was it? Let me know your thoughts in a review :) I love to hear from you guys :D_

**Just to back you guys up on the information given in this chapter:**

**William Broderick -or just Will- is Susan Broderick (née Pevensie) grandson. One that is the exact copy of her brother Peter Pevensie. Chloe is his best friend. That's all you need to know for now :) Everything else will be cleared up! **


	2. The World Has Left Us Behind

**Disclaimer:**_ Nothing is mine. I merely own the plot and the OC's you do not recognise. Nor do I own the quote by the way._

**A/N: **_So I actually forgot I had already finished this chapter, albeit a bit shorter than the former, it's better than nothing at all :) Thank you very much for your lovely words and support. I never thought you would be so enthusiastic about this fic. I guess I did strike one's fancy :) Anyhow, hopefully you will like this one just as much as the last one. Do remember that Will will be someone that is going to feature in this story more than you'd think :) _

**-** _"Better to sink beneath the shock than moulder piecemeal on the rock"  
__**- Lord Byron**_

**The World Has Left Us Behind**

Something coloured the back of my eyelids orange and I found myself pulling at my conscious self to get back to where I was before. I fluttered my eyes and slowly opened them. The first thing I noticed was the fact it took me so incredibly long to sharpen my vision. It was blurry and every colour was curled up into another. Though I finally was able to get it back and I let out a small sigh of relief. I must've worried Will, falling down like that. And I couldn't remember getting into a bed so I hauled myself into a sitting position and eyed the unfamiliar room. Shouldn't I be in the hospital or something like that? I frowned and raised my hand against my head, it was still throbbing lightly and I was expecting to find blood or anything of the sort clinging to my already red hair. But there was nothing, not even a bandage. And such a strange dream I had had.

"That's odd." I whispered and suddenly the door opened, revealing a middle-aged woman with a grey dress and an white apron tied around her waist. She was carrying a tray with everything on it and I screamed in response as she neared me.

"Oh dear! Do not be frightened love. My name is Dorcas Keys." I looked at her blonde hair, it was nearing grey though. Just like everything else. So incredibly grey. "You had fainted so my nephew brought you here."

"W-who?" I stammered. She blinked momentarily putting the tray on the night stand. Her blue eyes peered down at me and I was reminded to Will. He too had such lovely eyes.

"Well, Peter Pevensie of course. Do you not remember?" I blinked languidly. This was not happening. Peter Pevensie was dead.

"That's not possible." I whispered in response and Dorcas frowned. She moved towards me and put her hand on my forehead, as if feeling for a temperature.

"Hmmm." She mused. "You do look a bit peaky. Sweetheart, is there anyone I can call upon?" I blinked again.

"Sorry?"

"Any family members, husband?" Her eyes fleeted across my left ring finger. I did not have a ring. No husband, nothing.

"I –uhm- where am I exactly?" I asked Dorcas carefully. I took the glass of water from her as she sat down on the edge of the bed. The mattress sinking beneath her weight just a bit.

"You're at my house, of course." She said good-naturedly. "Now, about those family members, is there anyone?" I slowly shook my head. I could only guess I was still in London but God, how and when was I transported like that?

"T-there is no one." I whispered slowly. "I-I w-was..." I trailed off. I didn't know what I was going to do right now. "I-I need to find Will." I exclaimed. Dorcas looked at me with sympathetic eyes.

"And who may that be?" She questioned and I hesitated slightly.

"M-my friend. H-he was just here a-and-" Dorcas interrupted me when I tried to get out of bed.

"None of that now." She ordered me sternly. "I am sure he must be looking for you too. But London is rather big so you just stay put." I nodded absentmindedly. No he wasn't looking for me. If Will was here, Peter Pevensie wouldn't be here. That I knew. But since Peter was here, there was no possibility Will was here. Because that's not how things worked. No matter what happened. I glanced at Dorcas who was now muttering to herself as tears suddenly fell. _This could not be happening._

"Oh dear." Dorcas muttered again as she caught sight of the tears. "Don't cry love. It's alright." I shook my head at that. It wasn't, it was far from alright.

"No, it's not." I sobbed. "I don't know where I am, what time it is. Peter Pevensie is here and I can't find Will." I rambled. "Things are far from alright, everything is going wrong and I'm all alone." Dorcas frowned and grabbed hold of my hands. They were smaller than mine, skinnier too.

"Now, don't fret. It's alright to be frazzled after such a fall. Be thankful Peter was there to catch you." She told me and I couldn't help but blush at anyone catching me for that matter. "And you are not alone. I am certain we will be able to find this Will fellow?" She said that as a question and I wondered whether we'd be able to do so. "And apparently you know Peter." I glanced at the older woman. "Say, how do you know my nephew?"

I blinked. "I don't." I brought out. "Not personally at least. I've heard about him through my friend."

"This Will character?" Dorcas questioned and I nodded. Go for the safe option. "Alright then, well I'll introduce you to him."

"Oh please no." I exclaimed. For some reason I didn't want to meet Peter. I had to get back. "I'm sorry, I just don't want to be a burden." I quickly added once seeing Dorcas's expression. She smiled softly at that and patted my cheek.

"Don't worry, you are not a burden." I smiled.

"Thank you." Dorcas got up.

"Now, I know this must sound awfully strange but I haven't caught your name." I blushed, how rude of me.

"I'm sorry." I apologised. "My name is Chloe Bell." She smiled.

"It is nice to meet you Chloe." She said softly as she moved towards the door. A thought froze me momentarily.

"Dorcas!" I cried out. She stopped and turned around. "Don't take this the wrong way but what is the date?"

"January 24th love. Why do you ask?" I shrugged before carefully approaching the subject.

"No reason, and what...year?" Dorcas frowned. She was already questioning my sanity, I might as well add some oil to the fire.

"Well 1949 of course."

_1949?_

_**XXXXXXXXXXXX**_

The dress felt scratchy, compared to all the other dresses I used to wear in my own time. _Own time_, I mentally scoffed. I had been transported ninety years into the past. Into a time in which things were not specifically the same. Not to mention I was going to meet my best friend's dead grandmother's dead brother. Yes, even I was entitled to a headache if things were like this. I had tried pinching myself, I did it more than just once. But for some odd reason nothing seemed to add up. I was still here, in 1949. And Peter was alive.

Or so I had heard.

How was he still alive? Wasn't he supposed to be dead. Then again, if I remember correctly, he died somewhere in November 1949. And since I was still in January, I had almost a year before Peter died.

Then another question. If I met Peter, should I tell him about the fact I knew he was going to die. What was I going to say anyways? He didn't know me, although Dorcas had told him that I knew him. How was I going to explain that?

_Yeah, your sister's grandson is my best friend in 2011. _I couldn't see that going well.

No, I had to make something up. Something until I would be pulled back. _Fuck_, I didn't even know when or how I was going to be pulled back. I wasn't supposed to be here in the first place. This was nothing more than a dream. But even pinching myself didn't help because I was still here, a bruise blossoming on my arm.

"Chloe. There you are." Dorcas's voice penetrated my eardrums and I turned around, my back against the mirror now. "You look lovely dear." She said with a big smile, referring to my dress. I looked down. It wasn't grey, thank _God_ for that. It was a dark blue, with a ribbon around my waist. It went to my knees and was rather old-fashioned. But they were clean and that's what mattered most.

"Thanks." I responded and she grasped my hand.

"Now come on. I have someone waiting for you." I frowned. Who would want to see me?

"Who?"

She winked at me conspicuously and that is how I found myself face to face with Peter Pevensie again as she lead me down the stairs before moving away herself. There was no mistaking the likeliness with Will. In fact, I felt as if I was looking at my best friends right here, right now in 1949. His eyes, the same blue as Will's were peering down at me with an inquisitive yet curious look and I found myself realising that despite its physical similarity, this was not William Broderick.

And I was not home.

"I see you've recovered." Peter said, somewhat awkwardly and I noticed he was trying to make small talk. I gave him a weak smile that must've looked like a grimace, judging from the look in his eyes.

"Somewhat, yes." I responded. "Thank you for... catching me." I brought out awkwardly. I could see Dorcas from a distance. She was looking far too pleased with herself.

"My aunt told me you knew me." His eyes narrowed somewhat suspiciously and I found myself racking my brain for excuses. _Alright, think Chloe! Think! What do you know about Peter? He's around my age, yada yada yada. He went to Cambridge, just like Will and I... Hang on!_

"Cambridge." I blurted out without thinking. "My friend Will, went to Cambridge and I heard him mention your name once."

"Really? Will, you said his name was?" I nodded fervently at his response. _Bloody hell,_ _how was I going to get myself out of this problem?_

"Yes." I confirmed again, I might as well keep on talking. "He was in your class once."

"This, Will fellow?" Peter persisted and I nodded.

"Yes, William Broderick." Peter frowned.

"Is he perhaps related to Anthony Broderick?" _Fuck!_ Of course, Susan's husband. Will's grandfather. Anthony Broderick. Yes? No?

"I don't know. I'll ask him sometime." Peter nodded softly and I dropped my gaze to the floor. I couldn't believe the fact that I was standing in front of _the_ Peter Pevensie. Everything about this felt so incredibly surreal that I had no bloody idea what to do. Where to go from here. Where was I even going to stay? I had no money, no job, no prospects whatsoever. I had no place to go _and_ I was stuck in the past.

Peter made a gesture for me to sit down and I let out a big breath. I had no clue what to do. No idea what my next move should be. Nothing whatsoever.

"You never told my aunt how you ended up in London. Obviously you're not from around." There was an arrogant edge to his voice and I realised that he was somewhat thinking I was this damsel in distress. I snapped my head to his.

"I _am_ from around." I responded tightly. Oh fuck, stop talking Chloe. Just pretend you're not from here.

"Oh really?" Peter leant against his seat and I bit my tongue to hold any other comment that would've been seen as inappropriate. Remember Chloe, we're not in 2011, this is 1949. Propriety was a big issue then.

"I mean, I've been to London before." I settled for this as an excuse.

"I see." Peter moved forward again and rested his arms on his knees. "So where are you from?" I blinked a few times. What should I say? If I said I was from London then I would have to explain from where and who and etc. I didn't have the kind of liberty to say the truth. He'd think I was crazy. And I would not want to end up in an asylum. Not in this time era, not ever!

"Kent." I mumbled. "I am from Kent." Peter stared at me for a brief second before averting his eyes. Did he buy it? Or did he see right through me.

"Did you come to London alone?" For some reason he seemed horrified. Is it a crime to travel alone as a woman?

"No?" It came out as a question.

"I see." Realisation swept over Peter. "You were with Will." He pointed out and I nodded relieved. He was even helping me make up a story. The thing is, did he believe it?

"Yes, exactly."

"Where is Will now?" I blinked again. _Fuck!_ "H-he l-left." I muttered. "We got into a fight and he left."

Peter narrowed his eyes. "He left you all alone in the middle of an unknown city?" Before I could even say something he continued. "What kind of friend is that?" I narrowed my eyes, feeling angry. The urge to defend Will was bigger than before.

"He didn't do it on purpose." I exclaimed. "He was... forced to leave me."

Peter raised his eyebrows, obviously not believing me. "Forced to leave you?" He repeated and I nodded. Realising that I was going nowhere with my story.

"Yes, it was my fault really. I shouldn't have invaded his privacy. Because of that he-"

"That is no excuse." Peter interrupted me. "He shouldn't have left you." I blinked and for some reason felt I was talking to Will. Will always reacted like that.

Especially when it came to me.

"I know." I whispered.

Peter sighed and silence engulfed us from every side. If I had any idea what would be at stake while meeting Peter Pevensie I would've thought twice of wishing upon an imaginary star. But even now, wishes were unlikely. But that's what I thought about Peter Pevensie. After all, how many times had I not heard William telling me that he wished Peter was still alive. Just for Susan's sake. I blinked.

Hang on.

Alive?

Peter was alive... I could keep him alive. Perhaps, that's why I was sent here. As odd as it may sound, maybe that's my cause. My raison d'être. Or whatever it is you want to call it. Maybe I was supposed to save Peter so I could save Susan's family at the same time. I would get rid of the guilt that Will had ever felt.

Maybe that's why I was here.

"So what are you plans?" Peter asked me and I turned to him.

_Saving you?_

"I don't know."

**A/N:**_ So how was it? Let me know your thoughts in a review, pretty please :)_


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